


Our Medic

by angelcakes19



Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, Multi, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 03:09:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelcakes19/pseuds/angelcakes19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some old friends of Knock Out's come to visit. Knock Out/DJD slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reunion

Author's Notes- Hi, the DJD had me hooked from Tarn's first line (don't quite know what that says about me) and I could not resist putting them with Knock Out to see what would happen. The second chapter is half-written and primarily consists of a flashback detailing how Knock Out first met the group (torture warning for that chapter). 

Special thanks to iwanita for her input.

Canon deviation- Knock Out did not betray Megatron with Starscream in the first half of season one. I really don't want one of my favourite medics ending up like Black Shadow after all.

Warnings- Interfacing (sticky, plug and play, tactile etc) and sexual themes, violence, torture, transformers swearing.

Bold- Comm link.

Italics- Thoughts/memories/link speak.

Pairing- Knock Out and the DJD in various combinations.

Disclaimer- I do not own Transformers or its characters.

Verse- Prime/IDW-MTMTE crossover.

Units of Time: Astrosecond- 1 second, Klik- 1 minute, Cycle- 1 hour, Orn- 1 day, Decacycle- 1 week, Meta-cycle- 1 month, Solar cycle- 1 year, Vorn- 1 million years.

Unbetaed.

All mistakes are my own.

Hope you all enjoy it.

 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Our Medic

Chapter One- Reunion

 

The last energy field Kaon picked up on as he and the other members of the DJD entered the Command Centre, though it was the one he was looking for, was Knock Out's. Megatron's was the first, vibrating with strength and power, and was the closest, Tarn's melodic voice speaking with their Master's more gravelly one, each updating the other on progress in the wake of the destruction of the Omega Keys. Second was Starscream's, all arrogance and pride with just an ember of fear (that made Kaon grin), standing a few steps behind their leader. Third, surprisingly, was Soundwave's, calm and confident but not condescendingly so as the Seeker's was, locked down firmly around himself like a cloak; and he was standing further out towards the back of the room towards the computer consoles, Kaon hearing the tell-tale clicking of digits and keys, and the whirrs of the machinery.

What surprised the electric chair was that the medic's field was held even closer to his frame than the telepath's, lacking its usual flamboyancy. Knock Out was standing some paces away from Soundwave to the TIC's right, and Kaon could feel his gaze on the five of them. Once Megatron had strode out, his energy field leaving the blind mech's immediate area, Kaon excitedly commed Tarn, as if he had found another mech on their List. **Can I, Tarn, can I?**

**Go and get him for us,** the DJD's leader's field flickered with indulgence, desire thrumming underneath it like a base note.

Kaon stepped forward, sensors thrown wide so he wouldn't misstep, feeling Knock Out approach him in turn, the CMO's field relaxing the slightest so the DJD member could reach him easier. Sensing Knock Out pause, Kaon's servos reached down to caress the speed-loving mech's supple metal, grinning as he addressed _their_ medic. 'New alt-mode,' he hummed curiously, sending warm pulses of electricity over Knock Out's frame as he explored it, 'Earthern?'

Kaon giggled softly as he felt the medic shiver from his caresses, his servos slipping behind Knock Out where he found a wheel attached to the smaller mech's back. Curiously he span it, claw scratching at it lightly, and his chuckling increased when Knock Out gave a full-framed shudder. 'Earthern and _sensitive_.' He flared out his field, both enwrapping the medic in his glee at their meeting and reunion, and trying to prise open the sports car's almost rigid energy field.

Clever digits traced seams, travelling upwards until he found the stripes on the medic's throat. Leaning in, Kaon's glossa flicked out to taste them, delighting in the hitch in Knock Out's ventilations, then biting just hard enough to draw energon. Licking off the pearls of mech-blood that emerged almost tenderly, the blind mech's engines purred as Knock Out trembled, a spike of arousal in the medic's field escaping before the sports car could stop it. The DJD member answered it in kind, a hint of covetousness passing from Kaon to Knock Out through their fields.

Knock Out's own servo reached up to stroke Kaon's shoulder and neck, pinging their, long unused, private comm line. **I have… missed you.**

Kaon sighed contentedly as Knock Out reached up to kiss him- enjoying the feel of those lovely, sharp claws against his neck- then returned it fiercely, possessively, servos grasping the smaller mech's waist. The medic's admission sounded pained, who had _dared…?_

Breaking the embrace, Kaon slung an arm around Knock Out's shoulders, guiding him back to the powerful combined energy fields of the others. The medic was soon removed from his grip, cut-off squeak telling Kaon that the smaller mech had been lifted from him by Tesarus's pincers, the waver in the sports car's field indicating he'd been grabbed right off his pedes.

Amusement sparkled in the DJD's fields, with a slight undertone of foreboding threat, not directed at the crimson mech, as they slipped inside and tried to open up Knock Out's strained field.

Tesarus pulled Knock Out close, allowing the medic's pedes to dangle above the ground, as his arms slid round the sports car's unresisting frame. The others formed a circle, surrounding Knock Out as he was returned with a clank to the floor. The medic's ruby orbs fluttered closed as Tarn began to hum, easily attuning his voice to Knock Out's swirling spark.

Under such gentle insistence, Knock Out's field darted out a little, like a baby bird taking its first step out of its nest. _Hurt-Grief-Anxiety-Stress-Annoyance-Exhaustion-Frustration-Welcome-Yours…_ Then it closed once more.

Tarn came down to Knock Out's level, servo reaching out to caress the medic's faceplate with a finger and thumb, but he did not address the cause of his doctor's distress, not yet. 'Kaon has located the life-sign of another on the List, if you wish you may accompany us.'

Knock Out's optics and field flared with sadistic delight, bowed helm snapping up to meet Tarn's deep crimson gaze. Rubbing his faceplates into the musician's offered servo, he pressed a reverential kiss to the dark purple metal. 'I would love to,' he breathed and grinned against it, orbs darkening with the cruelty that originally intrigued the DJD.

Kaon grabbed Knock Out from behind, hugging him close and laughing. 'Just like the old orns. You know we got a new medic for a while? An Autobot Tarn played with. He screamed so nicely, not as nicely as you of course, and he had lovely, delicate wings that made him squirm. We broke him ages ago though…'

'Did you now?' Knock Out sniggered. Anyone else and he would have said of course Autobots broke playing Decepticon games, but the DJD were in a completely different league compared to average Decepticons. Even other Cons snapped trying to play with them. The medic, to prove he wasn't so easily breakable, daringly stroked Kaon's faceplate, a move he knew made the electric chair's tanks twist delightfully; the blind mech mock-growled and tried to nip at the digits in return before catching and pulling the CMO's servo to him and kissing each one with just a touch of denta grazing the fine metal, making Knock Out gasp then smirk.

'Yeah, he wasn't as interesting as you,' Kaon sighed into the medic's servo, then twisting the racer so the blind mech's lips, denta and glossa could tease Knock Out's wheels, 'he never wanted to join in our fun.' He grinned as the medic arched and groaned quietly, hearing the CMO's engines rev and feeling the hint of submission in the sports car's field as the smaller mech began to purr in his hold.

'He grew boring,' Tesarus shrugged, arms folding as he watched the medic begin to writhe, energy field twanging with quiet appreciation at the sight.

'Kaon,' Tarn's voice resonated lowly in warning and the slighter DJD member instantly released his hold on the medic and took a step back, energy field radiating obedience and apology. The squad leader stood to his full height and refocused his attention on Knock Out, words lyrical as he took control of the familiar spark, pulsating lightly in the grip of his voice. 'Come here, doctor.'

Optics dilating, Knock Out walked into Tarn's waiting arms, strong appendages pulling the medic into the DJD leader's chassis. Soft, classical music began to play as the tank purred into his audio, 'I do hope you have not forgotten who you belong to Knock Out, the claim we have on you.' The medic shivered, thrills of pleasure coursing through not just his spark, though it pulsed out from there, but his entire frame. He knew Tarn could make him overload as easily as initiating his spark to self-destruct.

Only a word was necessary.

His spark twirled, spinning in the closest thing he'd felt to joy in such a long time. A lazy grin grew on his faceplates as he waited in excited anticipation. Tarn could make things so good when he had a processor to.

'I'm sure you will tell us _everything_ won't you dear Knock Out? Keep no secrets from us?' A large servo enclosed firmly around the crimson mech's tyre. _You will tell us who harmed you._

Moaning, the sports car's servos clutched Tarn's back and hip, spark dancing to the DJD's leader's tune with the accomplishment of a well-trained performer, 'e-everything,' he managed, whimpering into the tank's harsh metal as the music increased its influence over him, frame growing increasingly heated by the moment. ' _Tarn._ '

'Down,' Tarn crooned, and the medic dropped to his knees, arms extended so his servos could rest on the musician's hips. 'Open,' he brushed his servo against Knock Out's shuddering chest plates, 'let us see that you have not strayed.'

Despite Knock Out knowing there was an audience, he obeyed readily, his chassis parting to reveal his suddenly swelled spark; the ball of life energy spitting out charges of electricity, like miniature lightning strikes, against the spark chamber wall- and the five names scored there- Knock Out and Tarn's metal, and the cool ground beneath them both. Trembling, the medic still bared himself with pride as he had done when the DJD had originally approached him with a blade. He had been loyal and his armour was freshly waxed so he was looking his best, he knew he would not be denied once Tarn finished testing him. His field opened, all other emotions but desire quashed for the moment, and he swept it playfully, invitingly against the musician's.

The engines of the DJD members roared, Kaon feeling Knock Out's building charge almost like it were his own, his energy field feeding off the medic's and those of his squad members.

Tarn reached in and stroked his designation glyph, digits pushing against it then twisting so the tips just penetrated the medic's spark, engines rumbling in approval, gratified to see that his doctor had not replaced the metal in an attempt to either deny their ownership or conceal it from another. He would check the smaller mech's valve walls later, in private. 'Very good, now… overload for us.'

The medic convulsed as his spark obeyed the order, keen echoing around the room as his charge exploded outwards as it discharged, frame slumping, shaking violently, against the singer's leg; clutching at it to ground himself, breathless laughter emerging from his crackling vocaliser. Tarn's servo slipped out of Knock Out's spark chamber to lay on his helm, following the medic down as the crimson mech laid his faceplate on the singer's pede, kissing it, a brief brush of his lip components, submissively, gratefully. 'Frag,' he murmured, knowing Tarn would 'punish' him later for his uncultured use of a curse word, 'missed you.'

Kaon giggled, Knock Out's released electrical charge tickling his field and teasing the sensors beneath his armour. Feeling how dazed and satiated the medic had become through the sports car's energy, the blind mech sent a questioning, pleading pulse to Tarn. Getting a permission-giving stroke back, Kaon lowered himself down to Knock Out's side, seeking out the medic's mouth and kissing him deeply, his own servo carefully entering the sports car's spark chamber to caress the waiting soul there into a second climax.

The medic whined into the electric chair's mouth as he felt little sparks of electricity pass from Kaon's claws to his spark, thrashing briefly then falling offline against the two DJD members before his overload had tapered off.

Helex approached then, righting Knock Out's chest plates and curling the far smaller mech into his chassis, heating it slightly as he knew the racer liked to make the sports car comfortable. The crimson mech was as much their pet as Sparkeater, and it was good to see that Knock Out remembered, and still revelled in, that.

Vos watched on, ever enjoying the exploits of the others whether they were administering pleasure or pain. After all their abilities could draw out a subject's suffering in a personal, hands-on way that his could not. When Helex turned, exiting the room in long, floor-shaking strides, the scientist dipped his helm to Tarn and followed, Tesarus falling into step with him as the four left.

Kaon pulled himself up, Tarn quickly pulling the slighter mech against him to guide him from the room. **Can we keep him this time? Please Tarn?**

**Our Master requires a medic Kaon** , his leader answered, tone of voice rising slightly to send a small chastising flick across the blind mech's spark.

**I know,** the electric chair's voice, in spite of the momentary pain, took on a devious tone, **but does it have to be _our_ medic? Couldn't we find Lord Megatron a replacement on Lucifer?**

Tarn hummed thoughtfully, Kaon gasping happily as his spark sped up in answer, **perhaps.**

Starscream looked on having watched the DJD's and Knock Out's performance in frozen shock. The medic had _smiled_ when the five mechs entered, what kind of Decepticon, apart from Megatron of course, was happy to see the DJD? One would have to be absolutely insane to enjoy being trapped by them. His wings rose incredulously as the group left, twisting to face Soundwave in his disbelief. The telepath, however, diligently continued the task of locating the hiding Autobots that Megatron had assigned him.

The DJD held no fear for him for he was loyal.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Thanks for reading and please review._


	2. Nursery Rhyme

Author's Notes- Hi, here is the second chapter. There is a reason Knock Out knows what Kaon is thinking in his dream that will be explained later.

Special thanks to Anon (thank you :-) here's the second chapter for you), Sara (glad you enjoyed it), treacheroussonata (thanks, hope you like this chapter), Iwanita (ooh yes, Arachnid deserves her comeuppance and I'm glad you like Kaon) and keeperofcoldtoes (really glad you liked it and if you wish to draw something I'd love to see it :-) thanks). As well as to those who favourite, alerted and gave kudos. 

Special thanks to iwanita for her input.

Canon deviation- Knock Out did not betray Megatron with Starscream in the first half of season one. I really don't want one of my favourite medics ending up like Black Shadow after all.

Warnings- Interfacing (sticky, plug and play, tactile etc) and sexual themes, violence, torture, transformers swearing.

Bold- Comm link.

Italics- Thoughts/memories/link speak.

Pairing- Knock Out and the DJD in various combinations.

Disclaimer- I do not own Transformers or its characters.

Verse- Prime/IDW-MTMTE crossover.

Units of Time: Astrosecond- 1 second, Klik- 1 minute, Cycle- 1 hour, Orn- 1 day, Decacycle- 1 week, Meta-cycle- 1 month, Solar cycle- 1 year, Vorn- 1 million years.

Unbetaed.

All mistakes are my own.

Hope you all enjoy it.

 

 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Chapter Two- Nursery Rhyme

Helex carried Knock Out to the medic's quarters, Vos and Tesarus a pace behind him as the Nemesis passageways were too narrow for the three to walk side-by-side. They weren't leaving for a cycle yet and the medic was sure to want to take some things with him when they departed. Laying the medic down on his berth (the ruffled sheets indicating it had been recently used), having obtained directions from a passing, trembling drone, the massive mech glanced around the neatly kept room, noting the presence of a second berth beside the crimson mech's own.

His fists clenched before he abruptly relaxed. Knock Out was of course _allowed_ other lovers, as long as he remembered who he truly belonged to.

Tesarus waited outside, the room too small for all of them, watching as Vos curiously clicked a datapad, sending the screen humming to life in the deceptively delicate-appearing servos. It was a recording of a kind and the DJD's scientist pressed a button to set it playing…

The scientist watched the content, Helex leaning over his shoulder so he could see and Tesarus listening carefully from the doorway.

Ragged screams and the sound of machinery buzzing soon filled the room. As they watched and listened, Knock Out dreamed.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Knock Out shuddered on the gunmetal grey berth, optics closed as he listened and waited. Killing you with the waiting, that was the Autobot's forte. His arm trailed lazily off the side of the thinly layered berth, spare servo resting on his faded-crimson chassis. His engines purred softly, just on the edge of hearing, as he began to drift down into recharge. Not out of any need to do so, but because he was bored and the only thing he could do freely.

Across from him, his only fellow prisoner did much the same. The institute they were confined in was not designed to carry prisoners long term and they were in a fairly average brig, primarily for punishing disobedience of the occupants not for safely containing enemy soldiers. And so the two waited to be handed over to a more secure authority.

The quiet remained unbroken for some cycles, the only sound the whisper of the two mech's engines as they slipped on and offline, before it was shattered like glass smashing to the ground. Warning signals blared and the cells became bathed in red as emergency lights swirled frantically in their containers. There was the sound of screaming, lasting for some time, and then, suddenly, dead silence. The sirens cut off leaving the lights as the only evidence to the base's distress.

Both Decepticons by this point were staring at each other with apprehension in their ruby optics, Knock Out's glossa flicking out to lick at his lip components in nervous anticipation. 'Can you see what's going on?' The medic snapped his digits at his slime-green companion. _Really, who picked a colour like **that?** When he could have chosen emerald or jade green, why go for looking like he'd just walked out of a swamp for Primus's sake?_

The other Con pressed himself to the wall so he could see up the mouldy-orange corridor, the angle of his cell allowing him to see further than Knock Out could. The entrance to the brig, unseen to both prisoners, screeched open and the ground shook with the weight of whoever was approaching. The medic was squinting, frame flush against his own wall, when the mech opposite him suddenly squeaked in fear, diving into the back of his cell and trying vainly to hide himself.

Curiosity flooded through the medic's spark and he remained frozen as, finally, he could also see what was coming. His energy field flickered violently in panic for a moment and he slid to the ground, bringing his knees up to his chassis as he tried to calm himself.

_They're not here for me. They're not here for me._

When he glanced up it was into two cruel pools of red, and his ventilations hitched, but the mech turned away from him, a soft note coming from the massive Cybertronian tickled Knock Out's spark teasingly, just on the borderline of pain. The medic gasped, back arching, before slumping back to the cool ground, spark swirling quicker than normal at the caress.

The energy bars to the opposite cell flickered, then shorted with an electrical hissing noise.

'Cesspool,' Tarn crooned, pausing and stepping to one side to allow the others to enter the confined space, forming a suffocating semicircle around the automobile. The medic's nasal ridges wrinkled at the designation, but his faceplates soon smoothed out again as Tarn carried on speaking; Knock Out briefly wondering if the disarming and system relaxing effect that lyrical voice was having on his frame was what Cesspool was feeling as well. 'Our dear coward. Whatever are we to do with you?'

The green automobile's panicked whimper told Knock Out they were feeling two very different sensations, realising that in actuality the DJD's leader's voice was aimed at Cesspool- the gentle way the tank had been speaking initially fooling the medic- and the quiet tune Tarn was playing was meant for the medic.

Knock Out almost pitied the other mech. They had barely spoken, both content in their own thoughts; that, and in truth the medic found the other repellent, but to have the DJD come for you was a nightmare brought to vivid, painful life.

A song stirred in the depths of Knock Out's memory banks from his sparklinghood, _'Who's Afraid of the DJD?'_ It was said that if you sang it more than three times in succession the Justice Division's leader would come and get you. None of them ever voiced the lyrics more than twice. Without meaning to, Knock Out hummed the opening bars as he watched Vos take his turn torturing their captive, the Primal Vernacular speaking mech opening the proceedings.

Tarn, melody reaching for and catching Knock Out's spark in an almost tender grip; sang the second line along with the medic's low accompaniment sending tingles through the crimson mech's energon. The vain mech's vocaliser froze as the larger mech turned and shot the panel beside Knock Out's cell- blast overwhelming Cesspool's high-pitched scream as Vos's face was pushed into his- energy bars disengaging on impact, before once more overseeing his prisoner's punishment, allowing the smaller Decepticon to flee or observe as he liked.

Knock Out remained in place, morbid fascination ensuring his stay. He couldn't deny the trickle of fear in his field, but it was efficiently subdued as he allowed himself to relax into the music of suffering, occasionally chiming in with Tarn's flowing voice when he dared or the symphony overwhelmed and compelled him to.

The whirr of the grinder made his tanks twist and his pedes curl. How strange it was that the sound was like the violin section of an orchestra, low but just slightly screeching at odd moments. His claw tapped against his knee quietly, optics drifting shut as he simply listened, Tarn's music becoming indecipherable from the tune of agony after a while.

Knock Out jumped when a questioning, exploring servo caressed his face, optic shutters flying open. A black gaze met his, a sadistic grin beaming down on him. The mech's unfamiliar energy field brushed his playfully as electricity trickled down Knock Out's frame from the blind mech's digits and centre of his palm. Gasping softly, the medic grinned, stroking his field against the other's. The blind mech purred, they both briefly turning to watch the half of Cesspool remaining be snatched from the floor and, shrieking and sobbing, be forced into Helex's chest, before they refocused on each other.

'He looks better like that,' Knock Out murmured, optics darkened in growing twisted arousal, turning his helm to kiss the slender mech's servo, giggling as a small charge flicked across his lip components.

The DJD member chuckled, 'his field tastes funny, sweet and sour.'

Knock Out sighed, engines revving, as the mech began to lick down his throat, kissing and biting teasingly, servos freely exploring the medic's frame.

'Yours tastes nice,' the electrical mech crooned, glossa flicking out to dab the bite marks.

Knock Out hummed, servos reaching up to lightly grip the other's waist, digits rubbing circles over the bright-coloured mech's back. Cesspool's screaming was muffled by Helex's reinforced glass, providing a howling undertone to the performance. Leaning up Knock Out pressed his lip components to the slightly parted ones above him.

The mech came down on top of him, between Knock Out's legs, returning the kiss passionately, glossa curiously mapping the smaller Cybertronian's mouth.

'Would you not like your turn, Kaon?' Tarn's helm leaned on his shoulder, looking at the pair through the corner of one fiery optic, arms folded sternly.

The smaller mech, with a parting kiss to Knock Out's bottom lip, leapt up, servo sending a tingle across the medic's faceplate as he stroked it in the same movement, and crossed the hall to return to the others.

Knock Out looked on with dim optics as the mech he had been embracing neatly changed into a macabre chair, electricity gathering and fizzing in the bowl-shaped metal positioned over the centre of the seat.

_Holy frag!_

Spark and tanks churning as he realised how much power lay hidden in Kaon's slender frame, Knock Out's field could not help but portray how impressed he was. Tarn turned as Cesspool fell, smoking and with the smell of burnt metal filling the confined space, from Helex, optics locking onto the medic's as he continued the verse from where the two had left off; the third line falling from his lip components like thick caramel.

Knock Out's spark… _jumped._ It was the only word the medic could think to describe the violent pulsing sensation that lashed through his soul. His ventilations became shallow gasps for air as his frame heated beyond the control of his cooling fans. Tarn carried on crooning the sparkling's song as he approached, stepping around the medic to crouch at his side, facing his own subordinates.

Leaning in close, the musician finished the rhyme against the medic's audio, watching amusedly as the smaller mech squirmed, listening avidly to the thrumming, surprised spark under his control, how it sang to him, for him.

Knock Out's optics fluttered closed, fists clenching and unclenching, as the song faded away and Tarn began to speak to him, a single sharp claw running up and down the medic's chassis. 'Music, is it not?' The tank sighed as he glanced down at the smaller Decepticon, powerful field engulfing Knock Out's as the medic's optics glazed over.

Kaon felt Tarn's influence on Knock Out's spark through the smaller mech's fluctuating field as Cesspool thrashed on top of him. His giggle came out as a fresh burst of energy through the vile-green mech's charred frame. What a delightful orn! One toy for pain, another for pleasure. Another crackly cackle streamed through his victim's sensornet.

'Is it not little mech?' Tarn leaned closer to Knock Out's audio.

The medic's chassis juddered, 'mmm…mmmhmm.'

Tarn chuckled, dark and velvety, leaning back and taking the crimson mech with him, settling the smaller mech in his lap, Knock Out's back to his front so they both could see Kaon's fun. Getting comfortable, the tank's arms enclosed around the medic's waist with ease.

Knock Out's field touched Tarn's surrounding sense of self curiously, as if moving through a dense fog in his processor, wondering what the DJD's leader intended, gasping then grinning lazily when the musician's flared back all around his. The two energy fields fizzed together, Knock Out writhing like he was the one being electrocuted.

Tarn's servos reached in to caress Knock Out's claws, rubbing them firmly to the point of pain. 'I wonder… what you have used these for.' He murmured almost idly, 'I would wager they have seen much energon.' Guiding one servo down, the tank massaged the medic's interfacing panel, larger appendage resting over Knock Out's smaller one as the DJD member pressed them both into the crimson mech's thin metal.

Singing the first half of the nursery rhyme, Tarn pulled on Knock Out, stretching out the medic's frame as his free servo rose to grip the armour underneath the ruby, but scuffed, mech's arm. As Tarn crooned to him, the medic laughed breathlessly, pushing himself closer to the rough metal at his back.

He _had_ always liked big mechs.

Knock Out's optics dimmed to a deceptively soft shade of cerise as his charge rose, zinging back and forth to pool in his tanks, spark, processor, energon lines, circuits… It left a bit behind with each circuit it made of the medic's systems. It had been far too long; he had been confined without contact for an interminable amount of time. All this attention at once was overwhelming where it might have been bearable before his incarceration.

Then Tarn simply stopped. The steady stream of words suddenly cutting off between lines. 'Sing the third repetition for me now,' he whispered after a pause, 'finish the song and I _may_ allow you to overload… perhaps.'

Knock Out briefly met Cesspool's agonised, barely seeing optics, silently mocking, before he, voice ragged, began to sing, words dropping to a whimper sometimes as his systems strained to release the pent up charge. The last line, a daring, foolish challenge to the leader of the DJD and only voiced on the third expression of the rhyme, was broken on a sob. His frayed field pleaded with Tarn's, a trickling stream begging mercy from an ocean.

A moment later he was against the rapidly heating floor, the tank bearing down on him as the larger mech's field became awash with amusement and arousal. With an elegant sweeping gesture, Tarn pushed aside Knock Out's damp interfacing panel.

Kaon shocked Cesspool viciously, sensing the mech's distraction and returning him to the matter at servo. Electricity shimmering up and down his frame as both toys began begging at the same time. Both at different tempos and volumes, for different reasons and it showed in the tenor of their voices, but equally enjoyable. Helex and Tesarus's engines, though they had previously sat in silence together, content in watching, on the berth at the back of their prisoner's cell, began to roar, the ground shaking with their combined power. Vos was close by, seated on the ground beside Kaon, claws tapping against the floor to the rhythm produced by the two mech's contrasting brands of music intermingling with that of Tarn's, field relaxed.

Tarn slid a digit inside Knock Out's quivering form, feeling the slick valve clench around his intruding digit, welcoming him deeper. Vos slid along the ground suddenly to grip Knock Out's servos and hold them over his helm, nuzzling at the sensitive digits possessively, almost painfully.

'N-no, medic, don't… don't ruin my…' Knock Out pleaded, voice broken as a second large finger eased in beside the first, valve desperately trying to stretch out.

Tarn began to hum and the crimson mech stilled, field smoothing out as he relaxed. 'You are a medic? How interesting… you could be very useful indeed.'

Knock Out's vocaliser buzzed with static as a third finger, not at all gently, rather dominatingly, pushed its way in, sight blurring as sensitive, but neglected sensor nodes were stimulated with ease even near the back of his valve. 'O-oh, uhhh, frag, please…'

Tarn pushed his legs further apart as Vos rested his helm on Knock Out's shoulder. The medic keened as the musician's digits were withdrawn and spike was placed against his entrance, breaching it agonisingly slowly.

A burst of electricity from Kaon dragged a weak cry from Cesspool's vocaliser, the slime-green mech leaning lax against the chair, shaking weakly.

Knock Out whined the deeper Tarn progressed, valve walls fluttering wildly. 'Pl-please, please I… I need…'

Tarn began to sing lowly and the CMO's spark slowed, charge dropping to a somewhat manageable level. The musician's field conveyed his wish to savour his captive as he finally hilted himself and stopped completely.

Knock Out whimpered, frame and processor feeling unnaturally heavy, his entire being coming down to Vos's servos gripping his wrists, and Tarn's servos on his hips and spike in his valve. Closing his optics, drowning in Tarn's field and voice, the medic went limp against Vos.

Classical music played as Tarn began to thrust and Kaon matched each movement, sending a shock through his prisoner every time his leader hilted himself within the smaller mech. As Cesspool made throaty, painful screams and whimpers, high-pitched screechy sounds, Knock Out gave them low moans, pretty little arches into the DJD leader's far larger frame.

When one was with Tarn long enough, a mech learned to appreciate music.

Knock Out was on the brink of passing out by the time he reached the threshold of climax for the fifth time, servos grasping at empty air as Tarn denied him over and over again. 'Pl-please…' He whispered, sight fading in and out, 'please…'

The music eventually started building, dictating Knock Out's level of charge completely, and when it reached its crescendo so did the medic. Flailing helplessly between the two other mechs, he was given no reprieve as Tarn's overload crashed through him, his frame, field and spark left reeling in the face of it. The musician's frame briefly blanketed his as the crimson mech desperately vented to try and cool his systems, and he would have slipped offline had it not been for the singer's voice crooning a little ditty in his audio, the cheerful tenor ordering his spark to keep him awake.

'You do not want to miss the final act, do you my dear medic?' Cruelty fluttered in Tarn's tone once he stopped singing.

Knock Out had no voice to answer, sated and riding small crests of overload aftershocks washing through him, but he grinned up weakly, a breathy chuckle ending on a contented sigh left him when Vos began to pet his helm, running slender digits down the sports car's audio and faceplate in a lightly teasing manner.

Kaon ejected Cesspool and transformed, darting around Tarn before feeling his way back to Knock Out and Vos. Sliding past and settling beside the medic, the blind mech rested his helm on their toy's chassis, deeply inhaling the smaller mech's post-overload scent, allowing Knock Out's satiated field to roll over his. 'This is the best bit,' he giggled.

Occasionally Tarn gave a eulogy of sorts if it was an iconic Decepticon who had fallen from grace; however Cesspool had been by no means important or ever truly valued for any reason. He was a mere grunt and a greedy one at that, making deals with Autobots and selling them weapons and ammunition. He had achieved nothing for the cause even before he was added to the List and so was not worth much of Tarn's time.

The medic watched curiously, unable to quite hear what Tarn was saying when the DJD's leader began to whisper, feather light, to his once companion. It went on for a couple of kliks, Cesspool shrinking further and further into the ground as time went on, Tarn following him down. Knock Out blinked as the larger mech suddenly stepped back, glowing green light beginning to reflect around the cells in the same moment as it streamed in thin lines from the seams of Cesspool's chassis.

Kaon placed a kiss on the metal above Knock Out's spark as Cesspool's exploded, taking the archaic-model automobile's frame with it. The blind mech's field bathed joyfully in the aftereffects of pleasure and agony bouncing back and forth off each other between the cells.

'Beautiful,' Knock Out murmured as Tarn finally released him from the larger mech's influence, systems beginning in relief to wind themselves down.

'Can we keep him Tarn?' Kaon nuzzled the medic's throat as Knock Out dropped offline beneath him.

_Can we?_

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Knock Out woke up with a soft purr of engines, stretching out and feeling more rested than he had done in meta-cycles. His spark skipped a pulse, however, when he turned to see Tarn sitting on Breakdown's berth, the recording of Cylas's destruction held in one large purple servo.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_Thanks for reading and please review._


End file.
